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Gooey (stripped)- Glass Animals

Liebestraum No. 3- Franz Lizst

We spent the weekend just enjoying each other's company. Edward loved watching Emmett clean up on Saturday, a big blur as he streamed around the house shoving trash into bags and adjusting everything that had been moved or pushed aside. Even with all his effort, the smell of beer on the carpeting lingered, and I teased him about being grounded for throwing an unsupervised party.

We didn't discuss anything I told him. We spent Sunday in the study, with me reading A Midsummer Night's Dream and Edward giggling as I put on affected accents and emulated distinctive voices for each character. As I was reading the part where Titania awakens and the flower juice on her eyelids makes her fall in love with the donkey-headed Bottom, Edward stretched up off the couch, still listening but walking around the warm room.

He laughed in the appropriate places, and nodded when Bottom commented that his friends acted like asses in leaving him, his long fingers tracing along the spines of Carlisle's medical reference books.

"Captain of our fairy band,

Helena is here at hand,

And the youth, mistook by me,

Pleading for a lover's fee," I complained in my high-pitched Puck impression, no longer reading but rather reciting as Edward's gaze fixated on the Solimena painting of Carlisle and me with the Volturi.

He was studying the details, craning his neck to look closely at each of the three brothers.

"Shall we their fond pageant see?

Lord, what fools these mortals be!"

Without comment or interruption, Edward returned to me, casually laying down on the couch and resting his head back on my lap. My hand automatically went to his hair, tangling through the thick locks as I softly scratched at his scalp.

"I l-like your Puck," he said softly, his eyes fluttering shut as I continued on, playing out Lysander and Helena's inane argument about their shallow and flowery love.

It was sunny on Monday, the air warm and humid as summer set in. I took Edward to the meadow, carrying him on my back as he laughed into my hair, always exhilarated by the speed. We couldn't stay long because the heat was cloying, his T-shirt soaking through with sweat and the nape of his neck that I loved so much completely drenched. It made him smell… stronger, muskier, more masculine.

I wanted to carve out a boulder for Edward to sit on in the shade, but he was insistent on sitting in the sun, and I couldn't object to his argument.

"I l-like l-looking at you in th-the sun. Your s-skin is stunning."

I would blush if I was capable, but my smile was demure and bashful as I looked to the ground, pulling Edward forward before settling on the grass, curling up together amongst the summer blooms.

"Rosalie s-said s-something to me on F-Friday," he started, twirling a lock of my hair through his index finger before tucking it behind my ear.

"And might that have been?" I was a bit worried, but Rose at least had a filter. If it had been Emmett, he might have given Edward a condom demonstration with a banana or detailed the finer points of draining a bear so that every drop was exsanguinated and nothing was wasted.

"About your c-control."

"What about it?"

"Does b-blood r-really not b-bother you?"

I smiled and leaned into Edward, breathing deeply at the nape of his neck where the blood pulsed so deliciously, clouding my head with the distilled scent of honey and salt as it mixed with his sweat.

"Not a bit. There's a constant burn in the back of my throat, and I can honestly say I will never be completely satiated, but there is no temptation with exposure."

Edward thought on it for a moment, his hand still in my hair, wrapped through my curls in rest. "What a-about m-me?" He asked finally, his green eyes meeting mine for only a moment before he fixed his gaze on my left ear.

"I'll admit you smell delicious, but not in a way that would lead me to drink from you."

"In what w-way, then?" He continued, and I failed to see the direction of this inquiry, or what Rose had said that would lead to it.

"Forgive me for the pedestrian analogy, but I'd imagine it's a bit like smelling something like a vanilla candle. It smells good, it smells like food, and it might elicit hunger, but you would never eat a candle, would you?"

Edward smiled, but the light didn't reach his eyes, and I could tell he was still nervous about something.

"Rose also s-said th-that she and Emmett… F-F-For the f-first f-few years, they…" I knew where he was going, but I wait for him to finish his thought, "Th-they had no c-c-control… w-with each other."

"It was more like the first decade," I corrected, confirming what Rose had for some reason told him.

"Is th-that why you g-got s-so… y-you know… the other d-day?" Still no eye contact, but his face was flushed from both the sun and the intimacy of the conversation. I was also embarrassed, though I showed no physiological signs of it. He couldn't understand the vulnerability of being so consumed by desire, and having to share that weakness with another. I was unused to sharing so much of myself with another.

"Well. Yes." I answered, hoping to leave it there but knowing I couldn't. I had to share myself with Edward like this, I had to be bare and honest with him, and I honestly wanted to as well. "It's quite normal for new couples to spend years wrapped around one another, surfacing only to hunt. For some, like Carlisle and Esme, the desire evens out after a few years and they're more balanced. Others, like Emmett and Rosalie, take longer."

"S-So you don't w-want me in the s-s-same w-way, right? Is it b-because I'm n-not a v-v-vampire?" His voice was small, like he had given up on something. Defeated.

"No! Christ, Edward, I want you in exactly that way. If it was entirely up to me, we wouldn't see another person for twenty years. But it's not entirely up to me, and I know that you're not ready yet. Carlisle waited for Esme, though in a different way, and Emmett had to wait for Rosalie to be ready as well. It is no sacrifice on my end because the greatest reward is just being near you."

His brows furrowed in question at my mentioning my family, so I explained, "Carlisle met Esme when she was a teenager with a broken leg, but he wasn't entirely sure why he was so drawn to her. We stayed around the area, casually watching over her until it was time for her to join us. We had been so isolated for so long that he hadn't identified what their bond was until Esme had built a life for herself, gotten married and all, and at that point he couldn't swoop in and steal her away. Carlisle is a fundamentally selfless man, and he wouldn't take her away from her family just for himself. But her marriage ended and Esme fell and nearly died, would have died if Carlisle hadn't been there to change her.

"Rosalie found Emmett, mauled by a bear, just a few years after her own change, and the connection was instantaneous. She carried him, bloodied and beaten in her arms, for a hundred miles for Carlisle to change him. Emmett would tell you he thought he was being saved by an angel, so he obviously experienced the draw to Rosalie even whilst dying."

"B-But they didn't h-have t-t-to wait then," Edward interrupted, pursing his lips that looked so succulent and delicious I wished only to lick them, nudge them open and consume the nectar held beneath them.

"They did, though. The details would be better explained by Rosalie because it deals with a personal matter, with her own story, but it would perhaps be more familiar to you than you might think. But I will tell you that it took time for them to pursue a physical relationship, though once they did it was as consuming as Rosalie suggested to you."

"So e-even as vampires, th-they-"

"Yes, even as a pair of mated vampires, they were not immediately physical because one wasn't ready for that yet. That's the reality of our nature, Edward. I will be whatever you need, I will do whatever I can in my power to make you happy, and to make you safe.

"The moral here is that just because I'm not constantly in such a state of overwhelming amorousness doesn't mean that I don't want you, in every way. I love you, Edward. I adore you, I desire you, and I love you." I leaned into him, cradling his face in my hands with the reverence such perfection deserves. "But please don't doubt me. My control over my desires is excellent, but you're irresistible."

I initiated our kiss, a gentle and soft brushing of lips, but Edward pressed into me, nearly falling on top of me, though I held us in our upright sitting position. It was glorious, my skin sparkling and warming in the sun as I caressed Edward's face in one hand and pressed the other at the strong part of his back, the muscles contracting under my touch as I held him up. He still had one hand in my hair, fingers lacing through the strands to press his fingers to the base of my skull and cup my head, pressure indicating that he was trying to keep me near him.

I drew away from his when I realized how warm he had grown, the sweat building on his skin and beading along his forehead. I gave him a moment to breathe, then whispered, punctuating with a kiss, "Human." Kiss. "Vampire." Kiss. "Werewolf." Kiss. "Or any other mythical creature." Kiss. "I cannot imagine desiring you more than I do right now."

I kissed him once more, ever so chaste and restrained, before pulling him up. We had been sitting in the sun long enough for my skin to be an ineffective coolant, and Edward was feeling overheated. I hadn't thought to bring hydration, so of course he also needed water, and I obviously wasn't doing the most spectacular job in taking care of him.

Edward remained deep in thought, though, just as he had been since the party. I wasn't sure if it was what Rose had said to him, or maybe some deep trauma from witnessing Jessica perform fellatio on Tyler, but whatever it was had sunk Edward's mood.

Edward tended to intensely internalize everything around him, and blame himself for everything. I knew he blamed himself for everything bad that had ever happened to Alice and himself. He thought it was his fault that he was bad at math, when really it was a systemic failure of a foster child that forced him away to try to protect a loved one the system had also failed. He tended to think no one would want him if he wasn't absolutely perfect in every way, though my constant reassurance seemed to assuage some of this self-doubt.

But as I looked over at him in the car on our way back from the meadow, I recognized this not as his spiraling. He was calm, his expression blank and his heart beat steady. He wasn't fingering the insides of his wrists, the habit he fell into before he would draw his own blood. No, he was as still as a human could be, gazing out the window at the shining blue sky and the trees alight in their greenery.

I left him to his thoughts, though curiosity burned within me. I wanted to help him, assuage any dark thoughts he may have and reassure him of my love and his safety, but I knew that he needed time to process. It had only been a few short months ago that he was in a hospital, dehydrated and malnourished and without any stability, and now he was not only in a new foster home and attending a new school, but he had been exposed to the world of vampires.

Maybe this was some kind of delayed shock.

Edward hopped in the shower the moment we got back to Charlie's, and I went to the kitchen to prepare a filling lunch. All he had eaten for breakfast was a cup of yogurt, and I had already failed him in not packing water or snacks for our trip to the meadow.

Alice was home, lounging on the couch and flipping through a grocery store fashion magazine with a romantic comedy playing in the background, but she got up to watch as I cooked two cutlets of chicken.

"Is one of those for me?" she asked as I flipped the chicken in the skillet, the skin sizzling in the light drizzle of oil.

"Of course," I said, letting the chicken cook as I prepared the salad, tossing spinach with a balsamic dressing I knew Edward enjoyed and slicing bell peppers and cucumbers. Since I had started commandeering the Swan kitchen, the produce was always stocked full in this house, and I would make sure it stayed that way.

Alice closed the blinds to the bay window in the kitchen, which I was grateful for because moments later the sun peaked out from behind the white clouds and would have poured through the kitchen. I slipped out of my coat, not needing to conceal my skin without the threat of sunshine.

"Have you ever had sex?" Alice asked, unprompted, flicking through her magazine. I whipped my head around, aghast at the question, but noticed she was on a glossy page detailing the steps to experience the 'elusive' female orgasm.

"Yes," I answered honestly, assured that Edward was still in the middle of his shower. I had, technically, had sex before, though I had no memory of the acts as they were burned away by the venom during my change.

"Do you want to have sex with my brother?"

"Yes," I said, pulling the chicken off the heat and turning to address Alice face-to-face so she could clearly see the earnestness in my promise, "But I am aware that that is a ways off, and I would never pressure him."

"Pressure has its place," she said, looking at me knowingly in that way only Alice could, "And it may be sooner than you think."

"What?" I stammered, clutching the handle of the knife so harshly had to concentrate on loosening my grip so as to not leave imprints of my fingers.

"It's just a thought," she shrugged, reaching for her bowl of salad and plucking the sliced chicken off the cutting board. Before I could ask another question, though, Edward bound down the stairs, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, and I lost my train of thought.

I love his exposed skin. He had taken to sleeping shirtless, and while I knew it was because the house was warm at night as summer set in, it gave me an excuse to press close to him, only the thin layer of my own shirt separating our torsos. And it wasn't just the physical. Like this, in a T-shirt, and undressed at night, the scars that were littered across his arms and chest were on full display. Walking around like this so casually highlighted the immense trust he placed with me, and how he was so comfortable he felt like he could be himself without hiding.

I wanted to cry every time.

His neck was pinkened from the sun, tender and drying in its burn, and I carefully applied lotion to moisturize him as he tucked into the chicken salad I prepared, standing behind him and rubbing my hands into the soft skin. Alice sat at the other side of the table, picking at her salad and sliding over the magazine occasionally to ask our opinion on what a certain celebrity was wearing, the momentary sex talk abandoned.

The next day we went to Port Angeles early to get lunch before therapy, stopping in at a nice little café right next to the ferry terminal. We sat outside under an umbrella, even though the air was misting and cool with a light rain. Alice tossed the crust of her bread to the seagulls, and Edward and I howled with laughter as they started getting closer and closer to her before chasing her around the docks, pecking for more food.

"No one is going to come protect me?" she shouted, flinching as another bird flew closer to her. Neither of us answered, too overcome with laughter.

I dropped Edward off at the flat grey office building with their therapist's office, and Alice and I wandered over to a funky boutique where she insisted on trying to style me in these Marrakesh fabrics where she kept saying I looked exotic but I think I looked ridiculous- like a child playing dress up with Aladdin costumes.

I exchanged Alice for Edward, who shuffled his feet on his way to the car and collapsed in the front seat unceremoniously. He didn't look upset, rather still deep in thought, breathing on the window and tracing a spiral through the condensation. I let him contemplate, fiddling with the radio until I found an oldies station to hum along to while we drove around. Edward caught my hand in his and rubbed circles on my knuckle, still with his head resting against the window.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly, driving along the road that hugged the coast so Edward could look out at the black waves crashing against the jetties.

"I'm f-fine," he responded automatically, squeezing my hand in his. "What are y-you th-thinking about?"

I recognized his need for a distraction, so I plucked an errant current event from my thoughts. "I was wondering how effective something like those upcoming Live 8 concerts are going to be on actually improving quality of life in rural Africa."

Edward actually smiled at that, his cheek dimpling as he tried to resist his own grin.

"What?" I asked, wondering why foreign aid would be funny to him.

"I n-never expect what y-you s-s-say next. It's always s-surprising." I smiled at him too, openmouthed at his warming comment.

"That's a good thing?" I confirmed. He took our entwined hands and lifted them to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss on the back of my hand.

"Absolutely."

Alice was also surprisingly quiet when she slipped into the backseat, though she did sing along to an Elvis song with me before asking for a station change to "something from this century".

"Is this better?" I asked, flicking the radio over to a top 40s station.

"Perfect!" Alice chirped, nodding her head to the beat.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know how you enjoy this. There's no style, no eloquence. It's just someone repeating a chorus to a synthetic beat," I complained, and I could see the corner of Edward's mouth turn up in agreeance.

"It's fun! And I love this song, so turn it up," Alice insisted, and I laughed but gave in, blasting the volume and watching in my rear view mirror as she bounced and slid to the music. Even Edward bobbed his head absentmindedly, his finger tapping against my hand in perfect rhythm.

"Can we g-go t-to your p-place?" Edward murmured as I pulled into the driveway right behind the police cruiser.

"Sure," I said, looking at him and trying to read his face. It didn't seem like anything was wrong, his heartbeat was steady and his expression calm, but I couldn't be sure.

I let Alice out and promised we would hang out tomorrow, then drove back in the direction we came from to home.

Edward followed me inside, stopping to say hi to Esme in the kitchen.

"How w-was y-your c-c-conference?" he asked politely, popping one of the homemade beet chips in his mouth and nodding appreciatively as he chewed.

"Oh, it was wonderful! We actually focused our discussions on integrating historical architecture in modern interior design, and I find I rather like the Ilkhanid Period," Esme gushed, pulling out her inspiration book and showing Edward some sketches.

"I l-like the blues," Edward said in awe, studying the careful etchings of her design of an Ilkhanid-inspired kitchen with blue-tiled backsplash. It really was amazing; I had never seen anything like it. Edward took a seat next to Esme at the counter and Esme began flipping through the book, explaining to both of us the significance of the eight-pointed star, or khatim, and the mythology that it can be used to capture genies, djinns, and the immaterial counterparts to humans.

Edward was enraptured as the discussion devolved from interior design to legend as Esme explained the significance of the star as Solomon's Seal.

"This ring," Esme said, pointing to the signet ring she had sketched out, "is said to have come down from heaven to Solomon, the son of David, and on it, apparently, the true name of God was engraved. Solomon stamped his written commands to good genies in brass, since they were supposed to be afraid of that metal, and to devils in iron for the same reason. With the talisman, he had absolute control over the winds, the birds, the animals. It's said that that's how he built the Temple of Jerusalem."

I wandered upstairs, letting Esme regale Edward with more stories within Islamic mysticism. I loved that they had become so close and comfortable with each other. I often caught Esme brushing Edward's hair out of his face as he ate food she prepared, her face aglow with motherly love. And Edward… I think he liked having a mother again, too.

Edward came up not long after me. I was lying in bed, my legs hanging off the foot of the bed, looking out the glass and watching as the obscured sun casted long shadows over the dewy forest, light gleaming through the heavy drops of pounding rain. It was a view I never tired of- so complex and changing that there was always something new to focus on.

I expected Edward to crawl in next to me and hold me to him but when he didn't, I turned to look at him.

He had closed the door behind him, but was still standing, looking at his feet and pulling at the hem of his T-shirt, stretching the fabric. I grimaced internally, knowing that Alice had bought him that shirt and wouldn't care to see it ruined as he twisted it out.

"Edward?" I asked, wondering what was wrong. His beautiful face was darkening with blush, and I couldn't figure out what had happened. Esme had said nothing that could have caused such a reaction, their conversation had been wholly benign.

"C-Can… Can we c-close th-the blinds?" he asked finally, swallowing thickly and still not looking at me.

"Sure." I hopped off the bed and flipped the switch to trigger the blackout blinds. The room darkened quickly, though with my vision it just made certain things more exacerbated, like the depth of his sculpted cheekbones and the shadow cast by his full bottom lip.

Once the room was completely dark, Edward exhaled deeply, and I realized he had been holding his breath. I stayed completely still, waiting for him to even himself out and let me know what was wrong. After several minutes, he shuffled forward sitting on the bed and looking up to me in invitation to join him.

His green eyes were so deep, it was like a cord was attached to me which pulled me forward and brought me to him, standing in front of him and looking down. He didn't break eye contact, reaching his hands out to cradle my face and guide me down to meet his lips with mine.

I relaxed into his embrace, bringing my body forward to rest between his spread legs. He tasted so wonderful, his lips reddened from the beet cheeps and making him taste surprisingly sweeter with the lingering aroma.

I pulled away first, hearing the hammering of his heart and thinking he needed a breath, so I pressed my cheek to his and let his breath warm my ear as he panted.

"I… I…" he started, practicing his deep breathing exercises before continuing, "I w-want t-to do m-m-more with you."

I pulled away, studying his face to make sure I didn't misunderstand. He couldn't mean…

"J-Just… I need you t-to hold me t-tighter, m-more f-f-firmly? And c-c-could you k-keep your hands on m-my sh-shoulders, neck, a-and u-upper b-back?" he looked to me to make sure I understood, and I nodded for him to continue, "I d-don't think I'm r-ready for anything m-more than k-k-kissing, b-but when I am, I'll l-let you know?"

I felt so hot I thought I might be on fire, the venom flooding my mouth as I swallowed quickly to get it out of my mouth. I nodded again, my ability to speak gone, but Edward had other ideas for what I should do with my mouth.

He brought us together again, his hands still holding my face. We were pressed together sweetly, our kiss chaste, but he moved a bit, and his lips parted to take my bottom lip between his own.

I actually moaned into his mouth, my lips parting to welcome his open mouth into mine.

With a great, huge, enormous deal of effort, I drew back, knowing my warning would be necessary with this progression- I think it would have been easier to drink from my singer and stop than to pull away from Edward when he was opening his mouth to me.

"I can hold you tighter, but I need you to tell me if I hurt you. My tactile strength is excellent, but I find myself very easily distracted around you," I smiled teasingly, brushing his hair from his eyes. "And, my teeth… I need you to be careful with my mouth. Teeth are our most dangerous weapon, so I need for you to keep that in mind, okay?"

His face was flushed, but he nodded eagerly, tilting his head back up to bring me back to him.

I leaned back down, my lips already parted to embrace his full upper lip, and I could feel the definition of his dramatic Cupid's bow with my own lips so intimately and expressly that, in that moment, I believed in God. There was no way a creature so perfect could have just been a coincidence, no. Someone must have created him, sculpted him from the finest of flesh into the perfection that I held in my hands.

Edward moved his hands from my face to my waist, wrapping his arms around me and pressing me ever closer, molding his body against mine as his lips crashed into mine.

Tentatively, I felt his tongue slip into my mouth, my own meeting to caress his. I was very conscious and aware of what was happening, focusing on keeping my hold on him firm as I pressed my hands between his shoulder blades, and keeping his tongue from approaching my teeth as we kissed deeply.

I knew it would be too easy to get lost in him, so I let him take the lead, tasting what he gave me and moving how he led. He slowly laid back, pulling me on top of him with his hands on my hips.

I pulled back to let him catch his breath, my lips traveling to the hollow of his throat just beneath his ear, licking the sheen of sweat from his skin. It was pure, concentrated Edward.

I kept my weight off of him- but still pressed enough to be firm- as we connected again, able to balance on my knees, which were pressed together between Edward's spread legs at the edge of the bed. My hands were running from his shoulders to his neck, my grip consciously not soft.

Our kissing was slow, soft, but deeply erotic. Edward sucked on my bottom lip, his teeth gently touching my lip and eliciting a very dramatic moan from me, causing him to smile as I melted from embarrassment. My skin felt like it was on fire, and a familiar pulsing at the apex of my thighs began burning in wetness as the urge to tear his shirt off and contain him within my body grew.

I controlled the impulse to assault him, letting Edward lead, and the urgency of our kissing faded and our lips met softly in a sweet, languid dance, still open-mouthed so I could easily taste the sweetness of pure Edward. Eventually, I drew back, sad to be separated but desperate to just look at him.

He was adorable, lips rosy and swollen, his skin flushed and covered with a patina of moisture. But he was also smiling my favorite crooked grin, his verdant eyes playful.

"Was that okay?" I asked, wanting to make sure I didn't press him too tightly, and the increased intimacy didn't bother him or make him uncomfortable.

"Okay m-may n-not be the r-right word," he chuckled, moving a hand from my waist to his hair to comb it backwards, though it just flopped right back in his face. I laughed in agreeance.

"Before today my body was useless.
Now it's tearing at its square corners.
It's tearing old Mary's garments off, knot by knot
and see - Now it's shot full of these electric bolts." I leaned in to press my lips against his, saying the next line into his mouth,"Zing! A resurrection!"

He laughed against my lips, leaning back to feed me the last verse of the Anne Sexton poem I recited, surprising me with his brilliance and recall- though I really shouldn't be surprised by it anymore. He's just far too remarkable to underestimate.

"My n-nerves are t-turned o-on. I hear th-them l-like
musical instruments. Where th-there was s-s-silence
the drums, the s-strings are incurably p-playing. You did th-this.
P-pure genius at w-work. D-Darling, the composer has s-s-stepped
into fire."

We continued laughing into each other again, giddiness bubbling with the new terrain we had conquered. I rolled off of Edward and onto my side to gaze at his profile- cutting jawline, strong nose. So beautiful it almost hurt me to look at him.

"What brought that on?" I asked, cutting our comfortable silence.

"I w-want you," he started, turning his head to look over at me, "I j-just… sometimes th-the other memories c-come up and it's… B-But I w-want t-to do th-this w-with you, I w-want t-to be your… mate." His voice broke on the last word, probably due to the animalistic connotation of the word.

"I will give you anything you want. I'm yours." It was a promise, solemn and serious and completely true. If Edward asked for the moon, I would figure out how to bring it to him- it's not like I have to breathe anyways.

"I'm yours," he replied in kind, sliding closer to me to kiss again, and I felt butterflies take flight in my stomach, spiraling and carrying me with each gentle caress of our lips.

The poem is The Kiss by Anne Sexton, and the Shakespeare bit is from Act 3 Scene 2 of A Midsummer Night's Dream.